Lessons
by Cat87
Summary: A different take on what happened after "Elephant's Memory". Contains spanking of an adult.


AN: So here's another oneshot. English is still not my first language, so I apologize in advance if some things are off. **Warning:** disciplinary spanking of an adult. If that makes you uncomfortable, then you should not be reading this particular story.

_Lessons_

Spencer knew he'd messed up. He'd lied to Hotch and gone to confront Owen Savage unarmed, with no Kevlar vest and no back-up other than Prentiss. One look at Hotch's face as he got out of the SUV told Spencer that he was in a world of trouble. His stomach felt funny and his hands shook a bit, as he packed his things and got ready to go to the airport. What if Hotch fired him? He wouldn't do that, right? Spencer had done the right thing, done his job. It might have been a risky move, but he knew what he was doing and he knew Owen's profile. All too well. He'd known that Owen wouldn't kill him or anyone else. He had known that, right? Owen wouldn't have done that, Spencer thought. Hoped.

He saw Hotch striding toward him, go-bag in hand, firm expression on his face. He handed the baggage to the pilot, took Spencer's bag from his hands and gave that to the pilot as well. Spencer was a bit confused. The older man had barely met his eyes yet. Was he really that angry? Spencer's pulse started racing, and his hand was clammy as it was seized by Hotch. Wordlessly, Hotch dragged him up the steps to the jet and to the seats facing each other far back. He let go of Spencer's hand, only to grab hold of his arm and push him into his seat. "You stay here," he ordered in a brusque voice. Spencer practically shook like a leaf, but he stayed put. 'What if I pee my pants?' he managed to think wildly, just before Hotch returned and sat down opposite him. During takeoff Hotch didn't say a word; merely looking at Spencer's face, his own stoic mask in place. Spencer wished he would say something. He was seriously beginning to worry about the peeing-thing again – and then Hotch interlaced his fingers in front of him and sighed in a way that made Spencer's blood run cold. So this was it. He was about to get fired. He wanted to take a deep breath to brace himself for it, but found that he couldn't. Actually, everything inside him was fighting against this, panicking and churning, almost bringing tears to his eyes. His breathing grew shallower as his heart rate picked up. 'Panic attack', Spencer thought vaguely, when Hotch suddenly spoke up. "I'm not going to fire you. I should fire you." Spencer's head snapped up and everything inside him seemed to get a hold of itself. At least he still had his job, his life. "I…I'm sorry Sir. It won't happen again," Spencer replied, almost dizzy with relief. The stern look Hotch sent him wiped away any relief he might have felt, though. Maybe he wasn't getting off that easy, after all. "What were you thinking?" Hotch asked incredulously. Spencer looked down. "I was thinking that that would be the second time I saw a kid die in front of me. I was my turn to save one." Hotch regarded him carefully. "We can't save everyone, you know that. However, you intentionally jeopardized your life and the lives of others. I cannot simply let that go." Spencer eyed him worriedly. Maybe he wasn't being fired, but rather kicked off the team. He could hear his heart beating in his ears again. He couldn't be separated from his team. They were the only family he really had. "Ho..otch, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, please, I want to stay with the team," he whispered urgently in a choked voice. "Spencer, we will never leave you. It's nothing like that. I just need to make sure that nothing like this will _ever _happen again. Which is why you're coming home with me. I'm alone tonight, and we really need to talk," Hotch finished. "Talk?" Spencer wondered out loud. Why would they talk more? Hotch arched an eyebrow. "Talk. About your dangerous, but also overall deplorable behavior on this case." Spencer had almost forgotten about his attitude earlier. "Alright," Spencer agreed, swallowing nervously. He really didn't understand this. Hotch wanted him to come home with him? Why? Maybe he wanted to really yell at him, and couldn't do so in front of the team, Spencer thought unhappily. He certainly wasn't looking forward to being reprimanded any further.

The entire flight back was quiet. Hotch had started reading a book while the others were napping, listening to music and reading, respectively. Spencer stared at his lap, and tried to calm himself down. It would all be over in a few hours, and besides – Hotch was his boss and he trusted him. It couldn't be that bad. Didn't mean that he wouldn't have run away from this if he'd been given the chance, though. It almost seemed as if Hotch had read his mind, because once the plane landed he got out of his seat only to lead Spencer out by the hand again. They picked up their bags and Hotch said goodbye to the team, while Spencer was too embarrassed to even look at the others. Morgan clapped his shoulder as he walked past, and the others tiredly mumbled their goodbyes.

The ride to Hotch's place was silent and very tense, at least on Spencer's part. After they'd parked, Spencer was once again led by the hand into the apartment. "Have a seat," Hotch said gesturing to his couch. "Are you thirsty? Hungry?" Spencer sat down and shook his head. He really didn't think he could stomach anything at the moment. Hotch sat down on a smaller couch opposite Spencer and looked at him with a serious expression on his slightly lined face. "What you did today was completely unacceptable," he began and Spencer shrank back. He couldn't meet Hotch's eyes. "You could have been killed. Do you even have any idea what that would have done to us?" he asked, his voice momentarily betraying raw emotion. Spencer looked up, startled. Hotch stared directly into his eyes. "We care about you, Spencer. If we lost you, we'd not only be losing a valuable team member, but also a family member," Hotch said. Spencer felt stupidly warm inside at that. It was still hard to believe that anyone cared.

"You will never risk your life again!" Hotch said, raising his voice. Spencer jumped, and felt tears springing forth. He blinked them back and swallowed. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. He'd never seen Hotch like this before. He almost never got emotional in any way. Hotch sighed. "I know, that's what you say, but you put your life on the line and your decision could also have gotten other people killed. This on top of behaving like an angry teenager for most of the case. You know that insubordination is a serious matter," Hotch said, and Spencer flinched. "Nowhere near as serious as confronting an armed suspect without a weapon, a vest or back-up, though," Hotch continued. "I'm afraid 'sorry' won't cut it this time. I've given it a lot of thought and I've decided to go through with the punishment I instinctively wished to dole out when I first discovered what you'd done." Spencer looked at him worriedly. Punishment? What was that supposed to mean? His palms started sweating again. Hotch calmly held his gaze. "I am going to spank you," he said. Spencer's mouth dropped open, but Hotch continued, seemingly unaffected. "I feel that a spanking is the best way to ensure that there will be no repeat performances. It seems like a fitting punishment – you acted like a disobedient child, and I'll punish you like one. It's harsh, but not harmful," he explained. Spencer felt like he'd been thrust into an alternate dimension. Did Hotch really just promise him a spanking? He wasn't a child anymore, and even if he'd been a child – who would still use that form of punishment, anyway? Spencer had never been spanked. He could recall being grounded once when he was ten, but then his mother had had one of her episodes and she'd forgotten all about it by the next day. Surely Hotch wasn't being serious? He did look pretty serious though, as he sat there studying Spencer with a grim look on his face. Spencer finally found his voice. "Hotch…" he squeaked, but didn't know what else to say. "You will not fight me on this," Hotch said sternly. Spencer stared at him and then shook his head mutely.

"Because this is the first time, you get to keep your pants up. If I have to spank you again for anything that is remotely as serious as this, I will take down your pants _and_ your underwear beforehand; are we clear?" Spencer blushed and nodded. This wasn't really happening, was it? The thought of Hotch seeing his naked backside almost made him pass out. At least that wouldn't happen now, and Spencer took what little comfort he could in that fact.

"Enough talk," Hotch declared. "Come here." He indicated the spot to his right, and made no move to get up. Oh God, he was going to put him over his lap, Spencer thought despairingly. He got up slowly. It was like he wasn't even in control of his own body. He then dragged himself the few steps to Hotch's side. "Please," he whispered, glancing at Hotch. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Hotch shook his head minutely. "I'm not changing my mind, Spencer," he said and grabbed hold of Spencer's arm, pulling slightly. Spencer's entire body stiffened and he made no move to bend over the older man's lap. "No," he whimpered, looking at the opposite wall. "Spencer. Now," Hotch said sternly. Spencer shook his head and a few tears escaped. He couldn't do this. There was no way he could subject himself to this. Why was Hotch even doing this to him? He pulled slightly on the arm in the older man's grip. Hotch sighed and grabbed him with both hands, pulling him down and draping him across his lap. "Hotch, please! Don't!" Spencer shouted frantically, but he was too frightened to attempt to get off his lap. Tears were dripping onto Hotch's shaggy carpet, being absorbed almost immediately.

Hotch adjusted Spencer on his lap and raised his hand. He felt a bit apprehensive about this. He'd never actually done it before, but he figured it couldn't be that difficult. He let his hand land with a loud slapping noise. Spencer yelped and Hotch winced. He hadn't really expected it to be so loud. He took a deep breath and landed another smack, even firmer this time. He picked up his pace and started raining down smacks in a steady rhythm.

Spencer was confused and trying not to hyperventilate as Hotch's hand kept impacting painfully with his backside. It was getting warmer and warmer back there and he squirmed a little. One of Hotch's hands pulled him closer and held him there. Realizing he had no way out, and no longer able to ignore the pain radiating from his backside, Spencer started sobbing hysterically. He'd never experienced anything like this. It hurt, and it was humiliating and confusing. "Stop," he sobbed brokenly. Hotch hardened his heart against the plea. "I have to make sure you learn your lesson this time. I can't afford not to be successful," Hotch told him, now landing sharp swats to the under curves of his buttocks. It hurt even worse this way. "We could have lost you. You will _never_ risk your life like that again!" Hotch lectured, increasing the force behind the smacks. Spencer kicked his legs. "We all love you, and you need to realize that and take into consideration how your activities affect us. That's part of what being a family is about, and we _are_ your family, Spencer," he continued, punctuating several of his words with firm swats. "Is that clear?" Spencer started wailing loudly. What had he done? He'd made them all worry, made them afraid. "I-I-I…sorry," he hiccupped. "So…sorry." Hotch stopped spanking. "You promise never to do something like this again?" he asked. "Promise," Spencer cried childishly. "C-can you ever forgive me?" he choked out between sobs. "Of course I can. We all can. Everything is forgiven now, Spencer. Fresh page," Hotch promised, rubbing Spencer's back. Spencer's wails slowly came to a stop. "It's ok now," Hotch soothed. He helped Spencer up, only to pull him back down, front up, sore bottom resting between his knees. "I think you should sit here with me for a while," Hotch said, pulling Spencer against his chest. Spencer nodded seriously. He pushed his face against Hotch's white button down shirt and kept crying. He knew he should be embarrassed, but he'd just received the first spanking of his life and heard for the first time that the team cared for him as much as he did for them. He was simply too drained to feel embarrassment. Somehow his thumb found its way into his mouth and he sucked on it for comfort. He couldn't remember the last time someone had held him like this when he was sad. Hotch started rocking him softly, as he wondered if he'd been too harsh with Spencer. He didn't think he'd hit that hard, really. Maybe it was just the shock of it all. Spencer was not a very physical being, and he was pretty sure he'd never experienced this before anyway. A spanking would probably shake him up quite a bit. It was most likely good for Spencer to finally get to cry, though.

Spencer had thought he'd be craving Dilaudid much worse by now, but strangely enough he wasn't. He couldn't even think of it. He was too tired and emotionally spent, and besides he didn't feel horrible enough to actually need it. That thought surprised him and he studied one of the buttons on Hotch's shirt with a small frown on his face. He actually wasn't craving it at all right now. Because Hotch was here, and he was warm and he was holding him. Protecting him. He half-smiled and snuggled closer, falling asleep, his thumb now hanging limply in his mouth.

Hotch noticed when Spencer fell asleep. He kept rocking him for a while and then got up, carrying Spencer into the guestroom. He really didn't weigh enough, Hotch thought concerned. Maybe he needed to remind Spencer to eat more often. Sometimes the young man tended to forget. He placed him on the bed and carefully removed his shoes and his belt and then tucked him in. "Sleep tight, buddy," he whispered as he brushed a few stray strands of hair out of his tear streaked face. He left the bedside lamp on, and left the room.

oOo

The next morning Spencer woke up to someone stroking his cheek and softly calling his name. He blinked at the grainy feeling in his eyes. Ouch, contacts were still in. Slowly Hotch's smiling face came into focus. "Morning, Spencer. Feel better?" he asked. Spencer's cheeks turned rosy. "Yes," he said. His backside was just a little sore, but not much. "If you take a shower and get dressed, I'll make some pancakes," Hotch said, indicating the go-bag at the foot of the bed. Spencer nodded and did so.

A little while later he followed the nice smell to the kitchen. He really loved pancakes and couldn't keep the stupid smile off his face as he sat down at the table. Hotch set a plate down in front of him. Spencer had never seen the older man looking this cheerful before. "I'm told I make the best pancakes," Hotch said, as Spencer dug in. His eyes widened. Hotch hadn't been exaggerating. He nodded at the man, who laughed and poured him a glass of milk. "Drink your milk, son," he said, mock-sternly. "Yes, Daddy," Spencer replied, rolling his eyes, but then casting a nervous glance at Hotch. Maybe he'd crossed the line with that one? But Hotch was really only smiling wider, and he ruffled Spencer's hair before sitting down to eat his own breakfast. Once they'd finished, the mood was still light and joking and Hotch announced that they were late for work. He ordered Spencer to the car, reminded him to buckle his seatbelt and got into the driver's side. Suddenly he looked at Spencer seriously. "I hope everything is okay between us after last night," he said sincerely. Spencer blushed and looked at his hands. "It is. I understand why you…you know. And I love you guys too," he confessed, cheeks burning. Hotch gave his shoulder a squeeze. "I'd like it if you came by more often," he offered. Spencer nodded, smiling. He now had somewhere to go when cravings got bad, when cases were ugly, when he needed parental guidance. Maybe he'd really had it all along. "Thanks. For everything," he said. Hotch smiled warmly, and started the engine.


End file.
